aid? And more than that, it had been given in a fraud. He had no money
when he gave it, and no prospect of any but what he was to get from
those worthless shares. Would anybody believe him that it was only a
stupid blunder of his own? Yes, his partners might believe him; but,
horrible thought, he had already implicated THEM in his fraud! Even now,
while he was standing there hesitatingly in the road, they were entering
upon the new claim he had NOT PAID FOR--COULD NOT PAY FOR--and in the
guise of a benefactor he was dishonoring them. Yet it was Carter he
must meet first; he must confess all to him. He must go back to the
hotel--that hotel where he had indignantly left her, and tell the father
he was a fraud. It was terrible to think of; perhaps it was part of that
money curse that he could not get rid of, and was now realizing; but
it MUST be done. He was simple, but his very simplicity had that
unhesitating directness of conclusion which is the main factor of what
men call "pluck."

He turned back to the hotel and entered the office. But Mr. Carter had
not yet returned. What was to be done? He could not wait there; there
was no time to be lost; there was only one other person who knew his
expectations, and to whom he could confide his failure--it was Kitty. It
was to taste the dregs of his humiliation, but it must be done. He ran
up the staircase and knocked timidly at the sitting-room door. There was
a momentary pause, and a weak voice said "Come in." Barker opened the
door; saw the vision of a handkerchief thrown away, of a pair of tearful
eyes that suddenly changed to stony indifference, and a graceful but
stiffening figure. But he was past all insult now.

"I would not intrude," he said simply, "but I came only to see your
father. I have made an awful blunder--more than a blunder, I think--a
FRAUD. Believing that I was rich, I purchased your father's claim for my
partners, and gave him my promissory note. I came here to give him back
his claim--for that note can NEVER be paid! I have just been to the
bank; I find I have made a stupid mistake in the name of the shares upon
which I based my belief in my wealth. The ones I own are worthless--am
as poor as ever--I am even poorer, for I owe your father money I can
never pay!"

To his amazement he saw a look of pain and scorn come into her troubled
eyes which he had never seen before. "This is a feeble trick," she said
bitterly; "it is unlike you--it is unworthy of you